Harleen Quinzel's Origin (A re-visit and re-imaging) PART 1
by GalacticRangersFromMars
Summary: Harleen Quinzel is a fresh faced rookied psychologist working at her fairly new job at Gotham Cities notorious Arkham Asylum, home to the criminally insane. Her first few meetings with the clown prince of crime, The Joker had gone smooth but things take a turn for the worst during this therapy session as Harleen wonders if she'll make it out alive and unharmed.


"Get off me clown!" Screamed Harleen; her golden blonde hair falling of her neatly packed bun.

"Oof." The Joker was tossed onto the floor, he was very puzzled with what just happened to him, but he quickly started to chuckle and a menacing grim started to form on his face. "Oh c'mon baby! I thought you wanted to play! HAHAHAHA"

Harleen was a greenhorn psychiatrist at Arkham, fresh from Gotham University. She was eager to get out of the gates quickly and thought she was very lucky to get a chance to poke around the mind of the notorious criminal, The Joker. She hadn't realized how charming and manipulating this man would be though; she found herself being swooned by this jester.

"I don't get involved with patients." She started to button up her top; the Joker managed to undo the top three buttons in the scuffle, exposing her cherry red bra. "Now I think our session is done for the day, thank you." She said calmly as she adjusted her glasses back up as she made her way toward the door of the windowless therapy room. She liked to work with patients without the company of armed guards as she felt the patients would be more trusting and open up to her. This session made her second guess that decision.

"Now I I thought this little party was just getting started." The Joker moved himself in front of the door to block her exit, his white face adorned with a sinister smile, one hand hidden behind his back.

Harleen started to feel worried about her situation. "What do you have there?" Her voice was shaky as the words were uttered from her lips.

"Oh it's a surprise, I might not need to show it to you if you don't give me what I want"

"And what is it that you want?" Harleen began to tremble slightly.

"For starters, that nice skirt of yours can make its way to the floor, but do take it off slowly. I like a good show." The smile getting even wider and more heinous.

Harleen felt slight temptation to do what the Joker had asked of her, the appeal of this man had got the best of her after the few sessions they had. She had to reach way down in herself to not succumb to his demands.

"No Mr. Joker, it would be very unprofessional of myself to have relations with a patient."

Harleen had set a goal for herself and wanted to become one of the best psychiatrists around and really change her patients lives. She gained a reputation over at Gotham U for getting too friendly with her professors, and her classmates would accuse her of sleeping her way to the top. This was not the case though, Harleen was truly the best of her class when it came to Psychology. She, in-reality, fell for a professor the year she got her degree, she thought she was truly in love, but ended up with heart break and embarrassment. Turns out Professor Blake was just using her for sex. She fell easy for men.

She wasn't the prettiest thing growing up; with her braces, dorky glasses and the bad acne she suffered with throughout her high school years. No boys wanted to date her or talk to her. Her childhood and teenage years were very lonely. The summer before she started college saw a change in little Harleen. The braces came off, the acne cleared away, and she upgraded her glasses to a more sexier pair. Her breasts filled out and she had developed an exceptional behind; this was most likely because of the many years she spent in gymnastics. She actually ended up at Gotham U with a full ride to join the gymnastic team. Harleens first few years in college were wild, to say the least. Boys were lining up at her door just to get an opportunity to talk to her, she went on a few dates here and there with a few different guys, but she felt most were too childish and none could please her in the bedroom. She learned over time that she wanted a man; and Professor Blake was that man. His chiseled jaw and impressive pectoral muscles had drove her crazy; she wanted to just squeeze them. His mind also had turned her on. He had great intelligence and knew his subject well. She had been smitten by him, and the day he kept her after class, Harleen knew she had to take her opportunity. She discussed the days lecture with him, and he invited her into the faculty room for a cup of coffee and before she knew it, Harleen was bent over a desk clawing her nails into the wood; reaching the greatest orgasm she ever had. Other students could hear her moans from the halls of the college, this is where she gained her reputation. She didn't care though, she was in love.

These "appointments" didn't last very long though, one day a new transfer student found her way into the class, and heavens she was beautiful. Harleen had caught Professor Blake's eyes glued to this girl and Harleen was fierce with jealousy, and reached her boiling point when the professor had called the new girl to his desk when the class was over.

"Do you need to see me as well professor?" Harleen needed to hear a "yes" come from that man's mouth or else she was going to lose it.

"No Miss Quinzel, I'm afraid I need nothing from you today."

"Are you sure honey, I thought we could get dinner later and maybe catch a film?"

"Miss Quinzel.. I'm not sure why you just called me "honey" and No, I don't associate with students after class hours. Now if you could kindly leave this classroom as I'm trying to ensure my new student has everything she needs to succeed in this class."

"Oh so you fucked me a few times, and this bimbo shows up and I'm suddenly yesterdays news?!" Harleen had indeed lost it.

"I'm not sure I know what you are talking about, but you can now get the hell out of this class room. I'm sure you have offended my new student."

Harleen glared daggers at the girl and stormed off out of the classroom. She felt the tears rushing up to her eyes. She felt so used, so stupid. Luckily for her, she was bright enough to skip most of the remainder of the year, not wanting to see the professors face again. She showed up for her final, aced it, and left without saying a word to anyone.

Harleens mind had been reminiscing of her days in college and she slowly snapped back into reality, almost forgetting about this green haired man in front of her. She had the internal battle with herself; questioning if it was worth it with The Joker. She sympathized with this poor fellow and didn't think he was a bad man at all, just misjudged. He really knew how to make her laugh as well and she loved a man who could make her laugh. On the other hand though, Harleen did not want to feel used again, and she did not know what his goal was with her. He clearly wanted to have sex with her right now but why? The quickest, most simple answer would be that he just wants to feel good and get off. He has been locked in this prison for months not being able to feel the touch of a woman. Maybe he just wanted to feel powerful and dominant. Harleen did not like simple answers, she was a thinker, an analyzer. She could understand if The Joker was falling in love with her, she wanted to believe he was falling in love with her. She had been an ear to him, he had opened up to her so much. She really felt a connection to this man.

Harleen was very confused with what to do. She decided she wanted time to think all this through.

"Mr. Joker, if you'd kindly let me through we can discuss this further at our next session." She flashed a hopeful smile at him and eagerly awaited his answer.

"Ah, but Dr. Quinzel I'm just feeling really feisty during this little get-together." The Joker started taking a few steps toward Harleen, one hand still behind his back and the other rubbing his cock through his orange jumpsuit.

"Please, I'm really not feeling it right now. I would just like to leave." Harleen started to change her mind on how she felt about the Joker.

"This guy just wants to fuck me."

She tried making a dash toward the door but the clown threw her to the ground with one hand. Her glasses fell off her face and slid across the floor. She looked up and saw the blurred figure in the corner, she could see the bright orange jumpsuit fall to the floor. Harleen felt defenseless.

"You should of just co-operated with me you stupid bitch! HAHAHA" The Joker indeed had taken off his clothes and was making his way toward Harleen; his stiff pale cock in his left hand, a shimmering sharp knife in his right.

"Oh shit.." Harleen was thinking quickly what to do. She was sitting up against the back wall at this point and she started to pound on it. "Guards! Guards!" Hopefully some could hear her. Arkham was down on funds and could only hire a handful of guards. She was really regretting the fact that she called off security to watch the room.

The Joker was now standing over Harleen. He crouched down to her level grabbed her head and shoved her ear up to his mouth and she felt his lips vibrate.

"Baby this is going to feel so fucking great, maybe not for you but it'll feel like heaven to me! HAHAHA, I haven't had the feel of a nice cunt in ages!"

The Joker brought his knife up the Harleens white blouse and started slicing the buttons off one by one until he exposed her bra again. He began to squeeze her breasts through her bra. His hands felt so cold to her.

"Guards Help! He's going to fucking rape me!" Harleen screamed as The Joker tried to cover her mouth.

"Oh hush darling, it's not rape cause I have a feeling you're going to love it!"

"You're a sick fuck" Harleen was squirming with every touch of his cold hands.

The Joker took his knife again and made a slit up Dr. Quinzels skirt, displaying a pair of matching red panties.

"The color red looks fabulous on you! HAHAHA"

At that moment the doors to the room were swiftly kicked open by a rather muscular guard; baton in hand ready to strike.

"Hey get the fuck off of her you goddamn lunatic!"

The Joker shot a quick glance at the guard over his shoulder and then back down to Harleen, and then stared at his knife.

"Be a dear and open your mouth for me, I want to see a smile on that face! HAHAHA" The Joker pried Harleens mouth open and with quickness and precision, dragged the knife to each corner of her mouth carving a "smile" on her pretty face.

"Oh that's perfect Miss Quinzel, you look as happy as me now!"

The world had gone quiet for Harleen, she had been overtaken by shock with what had just occurred. She brought a finger up to her cheek and felt the warm blood starting to ooze. Meanwhile the guard tackled the nude Joker to the ground and proceeded to beat him mercilessly. All Harleen could hear was his laughter; he was laughing while being pummeled.

"What a sick bastard"

The guard had beat The Joker to a silent bloody pulp, mere inches from the end of his life. Harleen still sat on the floor, her white blouse now stained red.

"Are you alright Dr. Quinzel?"

Harleen said nothing.

"Doctor?" He extended his hand to her shoulder.

She flinched away from his touch, she was traumatized.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but listen.. I need to get you out of here, you are losing a substantial amount of blood."

Harleens eyes were fixed on the Joker, he began to move. His eyes, his goddamn green eyes sprung open and his right eye gave a sly wink while his bruised and bloody face attempted to construct a smile but only produced a half-ass grin. Harleen was slightly confused why he did this, but then realized that the guard had left the door to the room wide open. The Joker began so slowly crawl to the door, before climbing to his knees and then eventually was standing straight up. The guard had been so locked on Harleens disfigured face he had not heard the Joker rise up.

Harleen slowly raised her right arm and pointed with her index finger at The Joker.

"Stop." She said very weakly and quietly.

"What?" The guard turned in the direction where Harleen was pointing. The Joker sprinted out of the room laughing like a psychopath. The guard got up and began to give chase.

"Go get help!" He called to her as he exited the room.

It took a while before Harleen could ascend to her feet. She began to hear sounds again, the buzz of the single light bulb that hung freely in the middle of the room. The sound of her own blood dripping to the floor from her freshly chopped face. She was no longer numb from shock anymore and could feel her cheeks burning with pain. Her tongue would catch her cuts on accident and this shot even more pain across her face.

"Motherfucker!" She screamed out in pain as tears formed at the corner of her eyes. A female colleague of hers came walking by the room, noticing all the blood.

"What in gods name happened in here?!"

Harleen quickly covered her mouth with her hands before the woman could see. Harleen felt like an ugly mess, the same feeling she got back in high school. She felt judged. The woman, despite Harleens effort, had noticed the glasgow smile and tried to now grab her and usher her to help. Harleen shrugged of the woman and rushed out of the therapy room and down the hallway toward her office.

She stood staring at a door with a nameplate that read "Dr. Harleen Quinzel."

"What a joke." Harleen tore it from the door and entered her office and threw it straight into the trash. She grabbed her handbag and gathered up her belongings and ran toward the exit. She managed to snag a surgical mask and some needle and thread from the infirmary before she made her departure from Arkham Asylum.


End file.
